


Patch Up

by bluspirits



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cats, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 22:10:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9568949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluspirits/pseuds/bluspirits
Summary: Kirsten McDuffie wakes up at three in the morning to find the Devil of Hell's Kitchen sitting in her apartment, bleeding heavily, and petting her cat.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is an au where Kirsten exists in the showverse. The first part takes place in early season 1, post cut man, and part 2 takes place in the hospital scene in season 2, episode 6. 
> 
> This is a fill for the misunderstandings square on my daredevil bingo card.  
> It's pretty unedited and was written super fast, sorry. Hope you enjoy!

Kirsten wakes up to a whispered curse from her living room, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. 

It’s the strangest, and also the scariest, wake up call she’s ever received. She lays there in bed, frozen, staring at the wall. She can feel her heartbeat speeding up as she listens for movement from whoever is in her apartment. Her most coherent thought is that her cat is out there with whoever has broken in. 

When she finally makes herself move, it’s to grab her phone from the bedside table. She turns it on and checks the time. Three in the morning. Great. 

She slips out of bed, silently as possible, and tiptoes across the room. She peers into the darkened living room, not stepping out past the doorframe. There’s no one on the floor. She exhales in relief. 

Kirsten takes a few steps into the living room, letting herself relax a little. Then she realizes that even though they aren’t on the floor, the person could be anywhere in her apartment. She never heard them leave. 

She scans the room frantically. 

As soon as she sees the stranger, she realizes that she should have called 911 the moment she was woken up. Her hand drifts to her hip for her phone, but not only do her pajama pants not have pockets, but she’s also left her phone in her bedroom. 

As an alternate plan, she slips into the kitchen and picks up the biggest knife that she can. There’s no movement from the intruder.  
Whoever wanted to break into a broke assistant district attorney’s apartment is sitting on her couch, back to her. They don’t move as she takes a tentative step towards them.

“I didn’t know you had a cat,” the stranger, a man, says, not making any move to look at her. 

Patch is lying his lap, purring gently. A little bit of her panic disappears at the sight of her cat calmly allowing the stranger to pet him. 

Kirsten stares at him in blank shock. “Who the hell are you and why are you in my apartment?” 

“What?” the guy asks, voice awkwardly loud. “I’m having some hearing problems, sorry.” 

He continues to pet her cat. 

One of his hands is pressed to his stomach, and is glistening red. The other is stroking her cat, who has blood matted in his fur, presumably from the man he’s sitting on. 

She squints a the man, taking a closer look. He’s dressed in all black, with a mask covering his face. She thinks back to this morning's news and something clicks. The devil of hell’s kitchen is sitting on her couch. 

They both stay there, not moving, almost a minute, Kirsten holding a ridiculously large kitchen knife out in front of her, and the man holding his organs in. Or at least trying to. 

“You’re not Claire,” the man says finally, and Kirsten resists the urge to shout “No shit, asshole!” at him. It probably isn’t the best idea to antagonize the injured criminal. 

“This isn’t Claire’s apartment,” he says slowly, as if just coming to this realization. 

“No. This isn’t Claire’s apartment,” she repeats, with a nod. Claire lives next door. Kirsten has met Claire. Claire has helped Kirsten with many cooking related injuries. Claire is an actual saint, the type of person who would stitch up a known criminal if she found them bleeding out. Which explained so much about this situation, to be honest. 

The devil shrugs. “Well, in my defense, I’ve lost some blood.” 

“Yeah.” That’s a little bit of an understatement. Kirsten looks at his chest, covered in more blood than she’s ever seen in her life. 

“Umm. Claire just went out a bit ago.” she says to him, remembering hearing the other apartment’s door close, when he doesn’t respond. She doesn’t really know what to say or do, only that she can lower the knife. He’s too badly injured to make any real motion to attack her without collapsing. 

“Fantastic.” The man rises and stumbles forward, sending Patch jumping to the floor. He’s probably trying to head for the door. (Both Patch and the devil) “I’ll just let myself out.” 

Kirsten grabs his shoulder as gently as possible when he gets close to her. “No, you won’t,” 

“What? Gonna call the cops? Arrest me?” He smirks, and attempts to make it clear that even with his many injuries, that plan would not work out well for Kirsten. Patch rubs against her leg, getting blood on her pants. 

“I’m going to call Claire.” Kirsten says slowly, mostly to calm him down before he hurts her or himself. “Probably.” Now that he’s closer, she looks him over to see his injuries. They’re pretty gross. 

“And hopefully keep you from bleeding out. Though I warn you, my medical knowledge amounts to absolutely nothing,” Kirsten tries to guide him towards the couch. She realizes this isn’t very reassuring, so she adds: “I may not be a super-nurse like Claire, but I have seen a lot of Grey’s Anatomy, so prepare to have your ass saved,” 

“I’m feeling pretty prepared,” he says as he sits on the couch with the face of someone who’s trying not to scream with pain. “You can save me whenever you’re ready.” 

“Pressure, right? You’re supposed to apply pressure? To stop the bleeding,” Kirsten says, mostly to herself, as she searches the apartment for some kind of towel or bandage. 

“Sure, pressure sounds good,” the devil adds helpfully. 

“Anything sounds good to you. You’re bleeding out,” Kirsten pulls open a couple of drawers. Where does she keep the towels again?

“So maybe you should hurry up with the pressure.” 

“Okay, who is doing you a favor here?” she finds a towel and tosses it to him. He removes a hand from his gaping wounds to catch it. “Would it kill you to be a little grateful?” 

“It might.” 

“Right.” she nods. She spares a moment to think about what a weird night this has been, to go from terrified an intruder would kill her, to terrified he’d die on her. Then she squats down in front of him and presses the towels to his stomach as hard as she can, ignoring his harsh inhale. 

She doesn’t know what else to do, so she keeps holding them there as she feels the blood flow slow down. 

Patch jumps up onto the couch and rubs affectionately against the devil, who reaches out with a free hand to scratch his back. 

“You have a very nice cat,” he says around gritted teeth. 

“Mmhmm. His name is Patch.” Kirsten continues to hold the towel to his bleeding wound. 

“Patch,” the devil repeats slowly. 

“Yeah. And I’m Kirsten, by the way,” she says. 

“Kirsten,” he repeats her again. 

“Yeah. That’s me. Do I get to know your name?” 

“Not if you’re looking for something more personal than devil.” 

“Damn. Not even for keeping your insides where they’re meant to be?” 

“Not even.” 

She grins up at him. “Feeling any better?” 

“Well, I’m no longer bleeding out, so that’s better.” He smiles slightly and tangles his fingers in Patch’s fur. 

“You think you can move anytime soon?” she asks, peeling back the towel to look at his injury. She almost gags, but luckily, no more blood comes out. 

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” he asks in mock offense. 

“Yes. I’m going to need to deep clean everything in this place. And Patch will need a bath, and I need to get some sleep. You’ve made me a very busy person.” 

“You’re welcome,” he answers. 

“I don’t remember thanking you.” 

He hums in acknowledgement, but doesn’t answer aside from that. 

“How did all this happen, by the way?” 

“Had a disagreement with some men with knives.” 

“Seems like it was a big disagreement.” 

“You could say that,” he says vaguely. She shakes her head. There’s a long silence. She can hear the nighttime city buzzing with life outside the windows, and feel the devil’s breath under her fingers. 

Kirsten looks down at Patch, who is rubbing his head against the devil’s leg and purring. “He likes you. A lot. He’s not normally this nice to strangers.” 

“I like him too.” the devil smiles at the cat and scratches the top of his head. 

The devil stands shakily, and makes his way to her window, which she notices has been forced open, probably by him when he entered. His efforts at walking are admirable, though he nearly goes down several times. She follows close behind, with Patch at her feet, ready to catch him. Luckily, her help isn’t needed. He slips out the window with only minimal pained hissing. 

“Thanks,” he says to her as he prepares to jump. 

“Yeah. But no offense, next time, please make sure you get the right apartment.” 

“I will. No offense, but you don’t exactly have Claire’s medical skill.” 

“I know. Please don’t die.” 

“I won’t. I have a lot of practice at that.” 

Kirsten narrows her eyes at him. “Bye.” 

“Thanks for your help. And sorry about all the blood.” He jumps, and Kirsten loses sight of him in the dark. 

\----

Kirsten almost has a heart attack when she sees the man in the hospital hallway. It’s not the first time he’s almost caused her one of those, and that’s precisely the fact that triggers it this time. 

“Um, can I talk to Mr. Murdock privately for a minute?” Kirsten asks when introductions are over. Murdock tenses and she can see the confused looks on everyone’s faces. Nelson sighs. But the group moves forward, leaving Kirsten and Murdock standing alone in the hallway except for a few police officers scattered around and Detective Mahoney, who is a couple of yards away, pacing by the elevators. She makes sure to whisper. 

“Ms. McDuffie, I don’t-” he starts. 

“You’re Daredevil!” Kirsten whispers excitedly, cutting him off. 

“What? I’m not Daredevil.” he looks at her like she’s insane, but she knows she’s right. 

“Yeah, yeah you are,” she says. 

“What? Why would you think that?” 

“Your voice is exactly the same,” 

“You remember that?” he asks disbelievingly, apparently giving up on denial for a minute. 

“A stranger in a mask broke into my apartment thinking it was my neighbor’s, bled all over my stuff, and got adopted by my cat. It was a pretty memorable night,” 

“Look, you’ve made a mistake. I’m really not Daredevil.” 

“I don’t make mistakes very often, Mr. Murdock. And this is definitely not one of those times.” 

“Are you sure? Maybe we just have very similar voices.” 

“I’m not stupid,” 

“I never said you were.” 

“No, it was just strongly implied by that suggestion. Your voices are the same. Because you’re the same person. And you have the same voice.” 

“Please-” Murdock leans forward a little and bites his lip. He looks annoyed. “Please don’t tell anyone.” 

“Are you asking me to keep quiet about a crime, Mr. Murdock?” she asks, voice full of insincere offense. 

“Yes,” he hisses sharply. 

“Okay,” she agrees pleasantly. 

“What?” he jerks back in surprise. He sounds a little lost. 

“Okay.” she repeats, smiling at him, then turns to leave. 

“Uh. Thanks,” he says, slowly, confusion filling his voice. 

She grins to herself, and looks back at him. “Hey, you should drop by again, when you're not bleeding. I want to see the new outfit. And Patch misses you.”


End file.
